


642 Things to Write About

by eyes0ny0u



Series: Drabbles [11]
Category: SHINee
Genre: 642 things to write about, Angst, Fluff, OT5 Friendship, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-23 17:40:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8336851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyes0ny0u/pseuds/eyes0ny0u
Summary: Pairing: Onho





	1. What can happen in a second?

What can happen in a second?

Choi could land their leader in the hospital. 

Jinki was moving to the centre of the Dream Girl formation. Dragging the custom-built, LED lit, 5 kilogram mic stand. Smirking at the camera as he delivered his line. With practised ease his fingers found the ideal spot along the stand for the coup de grace of his routine: the 720 baton twirl. 

As the mic stand whipped for the first spin, the base detached itself, flying up and back. Spinning towards Minho's face.

The rapper instinctively deflected it with his own stand. The disc bounced with a clang, arching downward. Jinki's stand, completing its second spin, travelled faster without the weight of the base. The mic clip butted the spinning disc straight towards the vocal's head. 

Forty five minutes later, Jinki woke up in the ER with 6 stitches.


	2. The worst Thanksgiving dish you ever had

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Onho

“Yo, what's with the potatoes?” Minho asked, putting muscle behind the masher.

“What about them?” Jinki responded, checking the brussel sprouts.

“It's not cooked!" The younger man exclaimed when a potato flew from the pot as he tried mashing it. “How long was this on?”

Jinki looked over Minho's shoulder to assess the situation. Chunks of half cooked spud and milk made for an unappetizing mixture at the bottom of the pot.

“Christ.”

“Can we have Thanksgiving dinner without mashed potatoes?” Minho asked glancing at the clock. 

“Better question: Can we have our *first* Thanksgiving dinner with *my* parents without mashed potatoes?” Jinki asked, deadpan, knowing the other will do his best to make it work to impress his parents.

Without a word, Minho picked up the pot and plunked it atop a free burner. Hoping the uncooked core of the vegetables softened in time. 

Thirty-minutes later, the couple's guests walked in on a beautifully set table. The brussel sprouts perfectly cooked into bland, Thanksgiving-staple perfection. Carrots and corn steamed in Sèvres bowls. Ham slices arranged around candied pineapple rings topped with maraschino cherries. The cranberry sauce and gravy was prettily arranged around the glistening mound of 25lb turkey. 

The elderly couple exclaimed over the feast. It certainly looked and smelled heavenly. Without further ado, dinner commenced with overly polite words exchanged between Minho and his in laws, while Jinki filled the awkward pockets of silence with inane comments as he carved the bird. 

“The mashed potatoes?” Mrs. Lee asked after her son served her a choice cut of turkey, hand already reaching for the gravy. 

“Erm, we uhm - ”

“I think it's right here, hon,” Mr. Lee said raising the lid of the server positioned at the very edge of the table. 

"Oh," Mr. Lee's brows rose at what looked like paste settled at the bottom of the fine china. 

Mrs. Lee glanced at Minho's beet-red face and her son's suspicious smile. With a silent sigh, she bravely reached for the ladle.

"No, don -" Minho protested trying to save his mother-in-law.

It was too late as Mrs. Lee poured the paste-like concoction over her plate. It *dribbled* from the silver and pooled lazily around her turkey. Jinki stifled a giggle as Minho hid behind his hand in mortification. 

Mrs. Lee, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, passed the ladle to her husband. Mr. Lee recoiled from the silver with a horrified look on his face - very much like a vampire being offered garlic. Mrs. Lee and Jinki guffawed uncontrollably. 

Mr. Lee and Minho glared at them, cheeks red with embarrassment, but the hilarity of the situation hit them and joined the laughter. 

"Let me fix you a new plate, Mom," Minho offered with a relaxed smile, standing up to clear Mrs. Lee's ruined plate. 

"Thank you, dear," Mrs. Lee said returning his smile. "But maybe next year, make mashed potatoes instead of soup," she teased with a wink.

The Lee's chuckled at the flush that covered Minho's face.


	3. A houseplant is dying. Tell it why it needs to live.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Platonic!Onkey

Cas heard Garcon and Com Des yipped at the beeping of the front door. 

*He's home!* 

The low rumble of Key's voice travelled through the empty apartment. His words were indiscernible save for the crooning tone reserved for the canines. 

*Why is he never that sweet to me?*

The soft pad of slippered footsteps moved from the foyer to the kitchen, where the sound of dog food hitting the doggie bowls could be heard. Cupboards opened and closed and the water ran again. Finally, the familiar footfalls headed for the den, where Cas was waiting.

The excitement was uncontrollabe. It had been three days since Key was home, there were no words to describe how happy it made Cas to see him again. It also hurt to realize that the feeling was probably not mutual. 

It shouldn't come as a surprise, really. Key was notorious for losing interest quickly. And after a year, one could say, where they stood now, was inevitable. 

"Hey beautiful," Key greeted as he opened the patio door, a glass of water in hand. "How's it going?"

*Hey, yourself,* Cas absently accepted the water, marvelling at the beautiful glow of Key's skin in the setting sun. *Why does he always look so good?*

"Guess it was a little boring with just the puppies to keep you company," Key mumbled as he caressed the cascades of fading copper, yellows and greens. "Aww, baby, your colours are off."

Key moved to a little drawer marked CH and pulled out a packet and mixed it with the remaining water in the glass. Cas took the mixture, grateful that he was finally paying attention. He'd been away too often and for long stretches of time lately. Too busy with work and his social life that he forgot of obligations and promises made. 

If one had to be honest, life with Key was becoming tiresome. The inattention was whittling away at Cas's desire to hold on. 

"You know you can't go just yet, right?" Key announced, an apologetic look in the quirk of his lips. "You haven't kept your promise to completely change into copper."

*Unbelievable.* 

"I want to see how glorious the new colour will look on you," Key smiled, cajoling, picking at a piece of lint that had settled on Cas. 

*People who ignore me, don't deserve to see me in my full glory.*

"A promise is a promise," Key said indignantly. " I'm going to sue for breach of contract, see if I don't."

Cas suppressed a giggle at the silliness, not willing to be pacified. 

"Besides, who's going to listen to me ramble," Key continued. "Com Des and Garcon are too hyper."

*Not my problem now, is it?* 

"Who's going to calm me down, when Choi's being an ass?"

*Jinki.*

"Jinki-hyung goes incognito, I can't go running to him all the time."

*Probably why he goes incognito in the first place,* Cas snickered silently.

"Who's going help me relax after reading all those stupid comments online?"

*Your extensive collection of red wine.*

"I'm down to my last bottle and those things are not cheap!"

*Have Jjong buy you a bottle. He can afford it.*

"Jonghyun-hyung is way too cheap to help me restock and Taemin may want to spend but the kid has atrocious taste!"

*Wow, the state of your liquor stash is breaking my heart.*

"But most importantly," Key added in a solemn tone. "Who's going to remind me that things can always get better? That I can do better?"

Memories of the times when things were rough between them, times when Cas was too weak to fight and Key too preoccupied to notice. But both had fought to recover and had found strength and inspiration in the other. 

Cas studied the man picking up the tiny dried leaves strewn all over the floor. Watched as Key carefully moved them to the bin, a regretful look on his face. 

"Bummie?" Jinki said from the door of the den. "Who are you talking to?"

"Hyung," Key exclaimed, startled. "What are you doing here?"

"You said you wanted to go out for dinner."

"Sorry, it slipped my mind."

"You ok?" Jinki asked, noting the uncharacteristic slump of his shoulders. "You look kinda down."

"Yeah, I'm ok. I just..." Key stopped and gestured towards Cas. "I think it's too late."

Jinki looked at the withered Cascading Habit. What was supposed to be a pretty mixture of copper, yellow and green leaves were fading into brittle, dried tan. The plant would have made the austere white walls a lot livelier had it been healthy and well taken care of. 

"I told you to get a cactus," Jinki said, inspecting the base of the plant. "It has a better chance of surviving your brand of TLC." 

"I don't want a cactus," Key declared. "I will learn how to keep a plant alive!"

"Geez," Jinki rolled his eyes. "Well, it's not completely dead yet, so keep on feeding it with that special plant food I gave you."

"I will," Key promised breaking off a dried section of the plant. "Mind if we have dinner here tonight? I don't feel like going out."

"As long as you don't expect me to cook, I'm good with whatever," Jinki told him as he continued trimming the dead sections of the plant.

Key left the den to prepare dinner, leaving Jinki to his little gardening. 

"Don't die, ok?" Jinki told the plant. "You're the only houseplant he'll ever consider pretty enough for this room. And we'll never hear the end of it if he fails at this again."

*I guess I'll stay,* Cas decided, swaying happily with the gentle breeze blowing through the patio door, purpose in life reaffirmed. 

 

A/N: Picture of a Cascading Habit - https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/8d/28/ae/8d28aec5759e349608bb758fb0e1a7cb.jpg


	4. Write a Facebook status update for the year 2017

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: ot5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that none of these should be taken seriously. I simply have an overactive imagination. Also pardon the choppy writing. This piece has been sitting in my WIP folder for months now, and I need to finish it so I can move on to the next prompt. 
> 
> Happy reading. ^ ^

Taemin stared at the empty page of his Facebook, wondering for the hundredth time why he was doing this. The marketing team could take care of managing his account. He wasn't sure why he insisted on composing the first status.

The week-old account already had over a million followers and the empty activity board nagged at him. He wanted to say more than "Thank you for following me and buy my album". Conveying emotions through words never came easy for him. What emotions he allowed people to see were said through notes and movements.

“Whatever it is, I'm sure it's dead.”

Taemin chuckled, realising he'd been glaring at the screen. He jostled Jinki's arm to interrupt his Tsumtsum combo remembering the ridiculous eight figure score that sat next to his name on the leader board.

“Time's up,” announced the cheery, synthesised voice. Jinki tsked in annoyance glaring at the younger man. “You ruined my high score!”

“Don't worry you'll set a new record in the next minute,” Taemin reassured him. But Jinki was already lost in the new round.

Taemin smiled fondly at the stubby fingers flying over the brightly lit screen.

He'll miss him.

At the end of last year, the eldest announced he was leaving. And the four of them accepted it without protest.

Time's up.

They knew it was coming. It had come knocking before - twice.

The first time was around Sherlock. When Jinki's girlfriend of four years got tired of being the dirty little secret.

From where they had stood - hungry and ambitious - she had seemed small minded and selfish. But looking back now, she had hung on longer than what was reasonable to expect of a young girl who only wanted to experience the rites of her first love. Rites that were taboo in their world.

At first, Taemin had been sympathetic to Jinki's pain. Because he never liked seeing Jinki sad. But he remembered walking in on Jinki singing while playing the piano in one of the practice rooms in SM. He had stood quietly by the door thinking something so beautiful should never be silenced by anonymity. He also remembered a much stronger emotion - being scared. Scared that Jinki would choose the girl over them and their dreams would crumble before it could begin.

Too young to know how to handle the volatile situation, the members had shut in on themselves. No one wanted to accuse Jinki of jeopardising their dreams out loud but they were mad, scared and feeling betrayed.

No one in the band though, will forget the muffled sobs, the late night calls filled with pleading and regret. They knew their dreams had a price and they were being shown just how dearly it could - _would_  cost them.

But they knew their leader knew what was at stake and what was expected of him. So for the twenty-two year old Jinki then, he had no choice but to let go. To do otherwise, was to lay waste what their collective adolescent shoulders had built. It also would have meant turning back on his own dreams. So final goodbyes said, unmarked box filled with gifts sent out with the trash and took his first drag of nicotine, purloined from the manager had closed that chapter.

Burying himself with work, Jinki slowly mended. His smiles were once again bright. Music was again beautiful and the sight of his members no longer brought shadows to his eyes. And SHINee won Artist of the Year in 2013.

All's well that ends well...

The second time was after Jinki's surgery. For the first time, Taemin saw his indomitable leader crumble with despair.

The high of living their dream was starting to wane. Their smiles were starting take on a forced quality, the flights took longer and longer with each trip. There never seemed to be enough hours in the day to finish the bare minimum.

Almost two years of flooring the pedal, Jinki's body had had enough.

While the youngest three of the band was developing their vocal skills Jonghyun and Jinki was holding down the fort. While Jonghyun thrived on the high paced performances and soaring notes, everyone was aware Jinki's sound was meant for something softer, gentler and a lot more melodic. But again, Jinki knew what was at stake and gave up the musical style he wanted to pursue. Learning to savour the rare moments they were asked to perform ballads. Voice rising above the members to bathe listeners with its sweet tone.

Taemin had loved listening to Jinki sing ballads. It was a big reason he loved ballads. Jinki's singing was Taemin's metric. Up to this day, he was still trying to shake off the feeling that he'd never match Jinki.

But while Taemin looked up to Jinki's singing ability, he was also aware of what the detractors were saying. Jinki was inconsistent and had not grown vocally unlike Jjong who was emerging into a _real artist_. Behind the bright smile and soft demeanour, no one would really know how much the words must have hurt.

After the his first break up, Jinki had clung to his career for meaning and purpose. Women may have come and gone - one meant more than the others but that relationship had also ended disastrously - had somehow cemented the idea in the man's head that his only purpose was to sing.

When he was diagnosed with polyp, Jinki had seen his world ending.

The look in his eyes when the manager had made the announcement had scared Taemin so much he had sat next to him on the couch clutching his wrist even after the meeting had adjourned. They sat in silence not looking at each other.

Taemin twined their fingers trying to reassure Jinki everything would be alright. But of course, that was an empty promise. Jinki didn't return the pressure of his hand and merely stood and went to his bedroom. That night Taemin, sat outside the eldest's door. Listening to the silence that came from the other side.

Minho had stood close by, forehead pressed against the door frame, clearly wanting to go in, but knowing his presence could bring no more comfort than what the darkness did. Key and Jonghyun had sent messages every hour asking them how the old man was doing. The two youngest members had ignored the flashing of their phones. There was nothing they could say.

No one was surprised when their Manager told them Jinki may not be signing the renewal contract. But they all raised a fuss anyways to the manager's obvious relief. Jinki was very much loved among the staff, especially the head manager. He had made life a lot easier for him by being the kind of leader his members respected and was more than willing to follow.

"Sign it," Key said slapping the contract and a pen in front of Jinki the moment his bedroom door closed. It had been three days since he was released from the hospital. All four of them willingly driven by their manager to the Lee's home to convince him.

Jinki had only stared at Key, pushing the paper away.

"Sign it," Key said coldly. "You owe us."

"Kim Kibum," Jonghyun exclaimed, aghast.

" _You owe us_ ," Key reiterated looking Jinki dead in the eyes, as he shook Minho's hand off of his shoulder. "For every stick you smoked after we told you to stop. You owe us!"

The anger that had frozen Jinki's feature melted into guilt and unspeakable sadness.

"You owe us for making us rely on you so much," Key declared, voice breaking. "You owe us!"

Minho grabbed Key's shaking shoulder in a hug. Wet eyes staring at the ceiling. Jonghyun stood up and left the room, wiping the tears rolling off his cheeks. Taemin dry-eyed had kept his gaze on Jinki; willing the oldest to look at him.

"Please don't leave," Taemin pleaded in a small voice. He was fourteen again, clutching at Jinki's hand desperately after a nightmare had woken him in their new dorm. "Hyung, don't leave."

Jinki had renewed with SM and they were SHINee again. The oldest member had learned to reshape his purpose in life, yet again. Taking on acting roles and solidifying his persona as a cheerful foodie. Lee Jinki was a variety blue chip once again. He no longer attributed his only worth to his very distinct voice.

2015 and 2016 showed everyone SHINee was impervious to the times and that they deserved to be called one of the best. The members were pursuing the dreams they had said they would achieve when they started training. Everyone, except Jinki.

He was singing, but not the songs he would have liked to sing. To compose songs that he could play the piano to, to show who he really was as an artist. But he had given up too much of himself to help SHINee be the polished diamond it was today that it had blinded the soothing, muted sparkle that was unique to Lee Jinki. But Taemin knew, it was only a matter of time, when the coals of Jinki's passion flared to life again. 

Strangely, Taemin had known the exact moment when Jinki had decided it was time.

They were watching themselves on TV on some variety show. As usual they were asked what they'd been doing during their off season. As each member recounted their latest accomplishments, Jinki had watched with the proudest but saddest smile. Like a parent waving their child off on their first time on the school bus. Proud that they've grown, but sad, that they're grown.

At the end of 2016, at their private New Year's party, Jinki quietly told them, he got his enlistment papers and he wasn't going to apply for a postponement. Everyone had said nothing, hearing what didn't need to be said.

Jinki had downed his whiskey, stood up and gave the four of them a ninety degree bow.

"Thank you for taking care of me."

Each of them had given the old man a hug with huge smiles. That night they had let him go, because they were now strong enough to.

And when Jinki healed and was strong enough, he would come back and join them again.

After all, they will be SHINee forever. 

Taemin's fingers finally settled on the keyboard and rapidly typed:

 

_Goodbye, 2016, Hello, 2017!_

_Please show my new album Rebirth a lot of love. ^ ^_

 

_Kisses_

_SHINee's Taemin_


End file.
